


Pseudo

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Boys Kissing, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Kissing, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, pretending to have sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 04:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17379251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Stiles begs Derek to pretend to be his boyfriend in order to get his roommate to stop hitting on me. Neither of them expected to fall as fast as they did.





	Pseudo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sisforsterek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisforsterek/gifts).



The familiar ringtone rang out through the quiet room, startling Derek. He fished his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the caller ID before answering.

“I need your help,” Stiles said as soon as Derek answered the phone. His voice was strained and he sounded scared.

The sound of the young man’s fear made Derek’s heart skip a beat. He sat upright, his voice edged with panic as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” Stiles replied.

Derek blinked in surprise. “What?”

“My roommate is obsessed with me and when he asked if I was single, I panicked and said I had a boyfriend back home,” Stiles said, stumbling over his words slightly.

“And you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend, why?” Derek asked.

“Because you give off don’t-mess-with-me-or-I’ll-kill-you kind of vibes – no offence – and I think if he sees us together, he’ll back off,” Stiles said.

Derek sighed. “Fine.”

“Seriously?” Stiles asked. “You’d really do this for me?”

“Sure,” Derek said.

He heard Stiles blow out a sigh of relief. “Thank you! I owe you big time.”

“Uh-huh,” Derek replied. “So, what do you need me to do?”

“I—uh, I don’t know,” Stiles said. “Could you come over and just hang out with me for a while this afternoon?”

“I can do that.”

“Cool,” Stiles replied. “My classes finish at three today, and I’ll be in the library studying afterwards. If you can’t find your way around campus, just call me and I’ll find you.”

“Alright, I’ll meet you out the front of the library at three.”

“Okay, see you then. And, Derek?”

“Yeah?”

Stiles’ voice levelled out, serious, as he said, “Thank you.”

 

 

The campus was a little confusing to navigate, but Derek managed fine. He made his way down the walkways between the large redbrick buildings, stopping at one of the small campus cafés to get a coffee to go and a sickeningly sweet mocha with whipped cream and chocolate sauce for Stiles.

He waited out the front of the library for Stiles.

The boy arrived not long after three, a stack of books in his arms and someone walking beside him.

The other kid was built, his expression confident. He had short-cropped chestnut hair and light blue-grey eyes. He was talking to Stiles, despite the fact that Stiles wasn’t all that interested in what he had to say.

Stiles looked up as he got closer to the library, his dark brown eyes meeting Derek’s.

Derek felt his heart flutter in his chest as a sweet smile lifted the corners of Stiles’ lips.

He picked up his pace, practically running over to Derek.

Derek held up his arms, half hugging Stiles and half catching him as he stumbled over his feet.

“I’m so glad you came,” Stiles said, leaning against Derek’s chest. He took a step back, mouthing a quiet ‘Thank you’ before turning to face the boy he was walking with. “Derek, this is my roommate, Jackson. Jackson, this is my boyfriend, Derek.”

Jackson looked the man up and down, his face set in a snarl as he gave Derek a curt nod.

Derek returned his gaze with a composed glare, returning the slight nod before turning to Stiles. “Do you want to go inside?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, leading the way into the library.

They wove their way through shelves of books before finally sitting down at one of the tables towards the back of the room. Stiles set his books down, shrugging his old, brown satchel off his shoulder and hanging it over the back of his chair.

Derek sat down in the seat next to him and Jackson sat across from them. He set the mocha down in front of Stiles, smirking as the boy’s face lit up. He let out a soft sigh and thanked Derek.

“Sorry,” he said to Jackson, not really meaning it. “I would have gotten you something too, but I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Jackson shrugged it off.

Stiles spread his books out in front of himself, sipping at the mocha as he dug into his satchel and pulled out a mess of notebooks, pens, sticky notes, and highlighters.

“The classical literature section is over there if you want to find something to read,” Stiles suggested, pointing towards a shelf of old hardcover books. “I don’t want you to get bored, sitting here with me.”

“I could never get bored with you,” Derek whispered, setting an arm around Stiles’ shoulders and pressing a kiss atop his head.

Stiles bowed his head, his cheeks flushed red.

Derek felt his heart skip a beat, shocked at how easy it was for him to play along.

Across the table, Jackson let out a groan, pulling his books out of his bag and setting them down in front of himself.

Derek kept his arm on the back of Stiles’ chair; taking note of how natural it felt.

He watched as Stiles flipped through pages in his notebook, reading through the pages of his thick textbooks and writing down notes.

Derek watched him, enjoying the comfort of the boy’s presence. He slid one of the textbooks Stiles was neglecting out from the bottom of the pile, flipping open the cover and reading through the pages.

He had nearly finished the first chapter of the text when Stiles glanced up. It took the boy a second to realised what Derek was reading.

“You’re really interested in this stuff?” Stiles asked.

“I’m interested in a lot of things,” Derek answered. “I was just wondering what sort of stuff you’re studying.”

Stiles smiled as he turned back to his notebook, his dark eyes flicking between the lines of printed black text and the page he was writing on.

Derek tried to ignore Jackson, but it was hard to do so when the boy kept looking at him with a glare that Derek thought would burn him alive.

After a while, Stiles stopped. He let out a frustrated groan.

“What’s that word...” he muttered to himself, flicking back through the pages of notes he’d written. “Able to be obtained by money by corrupt bribery…”

“Venal,” Derek whispered.

“That’s it. Thank you.” Stiles leant over and kissed his cheek, turning back to his essay and writing.

Derek couldn’t help but smile. He watched Stiles for a while, loosing himself in the wonder of the boy’s eyes; watching the chocolate-brown depths turn to gold in the light that came through the windows. He took note of the way his brow furrowed and his eyes squinted when he was confused, the way he screwed up his face when he was trying to remember something, the way his lips moved around words when he read something over again and again in order to memorise it, the way he juggled the pens, sticky notes, and highlighters and filled the pages of his notebook with colour as he took notes, and the way his hands tapped the corner of the page he was reading, waiting to turn it.

Derek felt his heart ache as he suddenly realised, he wasn’t pretending. He might have been pretending when he agreed to be Stiles’ boyfriend, but he hadn’t been pretending out the front of the library; he hadn’t been pretending when he kissed him; and he hadn’t been pretending for the past three hours as he felt himself relax into the comfort of his presence.

Derek glanced up at the large clock that hung from the far wall, blinking in surprise when he saw the time.

“I think you should take a break,” Derek said, looking back at Stiles.

Stiles looked up, his eyes widening as he looked at the clock. “Jackson, weren’t you going to go to that party?”

Jackson looked from Stiles to Derek.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice dry. “I guess I should get going.”

“Have fun,” Derek said, surprised at the bitterness in his voice.

Jackson muttered something as he shoved his books into his bag and left.

“Come on,” Derek said, patting Stiles’ shoulder. “I’m taking you out for dinner. My treat.”

“Der, I appreciate the offer, but you don’t have to keep pretending when Jackson’s gone,” Stiles replied, stacking his books into a pile.

“Whether we’re pretending or not, you’re still my friend,” Derek pointed out. “You’re also a broke college student who has probably been living off of instant ramen and coffee since last break.”

Stiles opened his mouth to object but thought better of it.

“When was the last time you went out for a meal?” Derek asked.

“Yesterday,” Stiles answered. “I had lunch with Scott.”

“A two dollar hamburger doesn’t count as a _meal_ , Stiles.”

Stiles screwed his face up, mad that Derek knew him that well. He pouted as he picked up his books.

“Fine,” he said, somewhat reluctantly. “I am kind of hungry.”

Derek took some of the books Stiles was holding, helping Stiles carry them back to his dorm room before heading out for dinner.

 

 

Over dinner, they talked like they used to. Stiles told Derek about all the things that had happened since he went to college, about his classes, the things he did while on break, and everything in between. Derek caught him up on everything that had happened in Beacon Hills while he was away and promised to pass on messages to his dad.

After dinner, Derek walked Stiles back to his dorm.

The boy stopped outside his door, hesitating as he reached for the door know. His face creased in thought as his eyes darkened.

“You alright?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, it’s just…” Stiles fidgeted as he tried to find the words he was looking for. “Jackson usually comes home from parties drunk, and when he’s drunk, he’s… aggressive.”

“Do you want me to stay?” Derek offered. “Make sure he doesn’t try anything?”

Stiles bowed his head as he nodded.

Derek gently patted Stiles’ shoulder, following him into the dorm room. He expected it to be a mess, like Stiles’ bedroom had been back in Beacon Hills, with piles of dirty clothes scattered across on the floor, photos and pieces of paper stuck to the walls with a web of coloured strings connecting them, piles of paper and books scattered across his desk, and what few clean clothes he had stacked on his desk chair.

In reality, his room was clean; his desk was tidy, books stacked in the corner or lined up on a shelf; his dirty clothes were dumped in a hamper; his bed was made; and the chaos of his study notes and coloured thread was contained to a small cork board that rested against the wall.

Derek lingered by the door for a second, glancing back at Stiles.

“Pass me a sock,” he said.

Stiles screwed his face up in confusion, pulling a pair of socks from his bedside drawer and tossing them to Derek.

Derek unfolded them and hung one of the socks on the doorknob before shutting it.

He heard Stiles snort with laughter. “Seriously?”

Derek gave a half-hearted shrug. “He’ll leave you alone.”

“You’re only meant to put a sock on the door if we’re having sex,” Stiles pointed out.

“We could be,” Derek replied.

Stiles’ face flushed, his eyes flying open wide as he looked at Derek.

“Relax, we’re not actually going to have sex,” Derek assured him.

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. He slumped down on his bed, patting the mattress beside him.

Derek crossed the room and sat down next to Stiles. He blinked in surprise as the bed groaned slightly under his weight.

Stiles chuckled at Derek’s reaction. He grabbed a folder of essays, notebooks full of study notes and text books, letting Derek read over his past assignments and proof read the ones that were due next week as they sat there and talked.

About an hour later, there was a knock at the door.

“Stiles!” The voice was gruff, loud and angry, but slurred by alcohol.

“Shit,” Stiles whispered. “It’s Jackson.”

“Follow my lead,” Derek said. He began to bob up and down on the bed, making it groan under his weight.

Stiles seemed to pick up on what Derek was suggesting.

“Oh, fuck, Derek,” he cried out, letting out broken whimpers and half-muffled moans. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Derek had to turn his head away, biting into his lip as he fought not to laugh.

“Oh God, _Derek_ ,” Stiles cried, uttering the man’s name as if it were a prayer.

Derek’s stomach fluttered, something stirring inside of him as he heard Stiles say his name over and over again.

Finally, the shadows under the door shifted as Jackson walked away, swearing under his breath and shouting something as he left.

Stiles and Derek fell back on the bed, bursting into fits of laughter until their sides hurt.

Derek turned his head to the side, looking at how flushed Stiles’ cheeks were, the sweet smile on his face.

He couldn’t help but wonder what Stiles was actually like during sex.

He caught himself before he dove too deep into that thought.

“You know,” Stiles said, heaving in breaths as he steadied himself. “This is probably the best relationship I’ve ever had.”

Derek’s face fell.

He rose onto his elbows, looking down at Stiles.

Stiles met his gaze, his dark eyes sparkling as he looked up at Derek. He slowly rose onto his elbows, his face inches from Derek’s. His lips quivered slightly as his eyes darted between Derek’s eyes and his lips.

Derek lifted his hand, cupping Stiles’ cheek and bringing their lips together. He brushed his lips across Stiles’ in a soft kiss.

Stiles’ eyes fluttered shut, his lips quivering slightly as he tilted his chin and chased Derek’s lips.

Derek drew their lips together again.

Stiles let his breath fall from his lungs as his shoulders dropped. He turned slightly, setting his hand on Derek’s chest, feeling the man’s thundering heart beat against his ribs as he balled the soft cotton of his Henley into his fist and pulled him closer.

Derek lost himself in the moment. This wasn’t like the times he had kiss others, this was different; it felt _right_.

His breathless lungs ached, but he desperately didn’t want to let go.

Finally, he drew back, gasping for air. He couldn’t help but grin at Stiles’ euphoric expression, his brown eyes misted as he slowly blinked them open and looked up at Derek.

“That didn’t feel pretend,” Stiles muttered.

“It wasn’t,” Derek admitted.

Stiles smiled, a soft pink blush colouring his cheeks. “Good… So, we’re…”

“If you want to,” Derek answered.

Stiles’ smile broadened. “Yeah. I want to.”

Derek kissed him again.

“We should probably take the sock off the door now,” Stiles said as they drew back from the kiss again.

“Not yet. I have a reputation to uphold,” Derek joked.

Stiles lifted a brow. “Oh?”

A wicked smirk played across Derek’s lips, his voice low, slow and sultry as he drew out every word. “ _All night long_.”

Stiles let out a laugh.

“What about Jackson?”

“He can sleep on a couch somewhere,” Derek said dismissively.

Stiles let out a low chuckle.

Derek tilted his head, bringing their lips together again in a sweet, tender kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


End file.
